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When we zero in on his car, I immediately jump in the back before anyone can railroad me into riding shotgun again. I’ve had enough of him for the rest of the day.
But I make the mistake of taking the seat right behind his, and he keep looking at me in his rearview mirror.
I stare at the passing landscape, stewing in my annoyance.
It’s been long enough for me to understand that some part of it is directed toward myself. I’m pissed I wanted him to continue. And unbearably annoyed about the fact that he knows it.
If you want me to finish the job, all you have to do is tell me, you know.
Smug asshole.
We stop for dinner on the way—Bex directs us to a diner with fries so good I barely even touch my burger, focused on finishing those. Why the hell are they so tasty?
“Erm, Sarah?” Violet says, barely containing her laugh. “You might want to tone that down a notch. Take pity on poor Marius.”
I blink, confused. One look at him, and I see his burning eyes set on my mouth.
“I’m just eating,” I say, frowning.
Violet snorts. “You’re moaning like a porn star, darling.”
Oh. I didn’t realize. I shrug, feeling a grin tug at the corner of my mouth. “They’re good fries,” I return unapologetically.
“The best,” Bex says, happy to back me up. “I always stop here on my way back to town for a reason.”
“I’m so sorry, man.” Damian pats Marius’s shoulder. “She’s right. If any fries are moan-worthy, it’s these ones.”
He moans for good measure, and Marius digs his elbow into his side—somewhat playfully? Damian still yelps.
I shouldn’t, but I can’t help myself. Now that I know I can affect Marius, I play. He’s the one who started it. I pick up another fry and bring it to my mouth slowly, barely opening my lips to bite into it, keeping my eyes on his. Then I close my eyes and moan again.
The entire table erupts in laughter—everyone except Marius and me, that is. I’m smirking, feeling positively victorious, although if I didn’t know better, I’d think he wanted to strangle me, given the fire in his blue irises.
He might have won the first round of whatever sick game he’s playing with me, but this match is mine.
It’s a struggle but I keep my eyes on him for the rest of the meal, making a show of enjoying myself.
When it’s time to pay, I reach for my wallet, but Marius hands over his card, declaring he’s covering the whole table.
No one protests. I would have preferred to pay my own way, but no one else seems to mind, so I swallow my pride.
Vi goes out to take a phone call from Rhys—he and Rom were at an away game today, which is likely why she came along. They’re generally joined at the hip in their free time.
“I’d better head to the restroom,” Bex says.
I opt to tag along. I don’t really need to pee, but we still have a couple of hours to get back home.
We’re both washing our hands, chatting about her lovely grandparents when the door slides open, and I glance back to see a six foot-something giant who certainly doesn’t belong in the ladies’ room enter in big strides.
“Out,” Marius growls at Bex.
The deep, harsh word is a command, allowing no discussion. She squeals and scampers, leaving me alone with the angry pile of muscle sauntering up to me.
I can’t even blame her. I’m fairly certain I would have done the same.
“Sarah, Sarah, Sarah.”
I clasp the cool porcelain skink, heart beating fast.
